


Deadstick

by blackchaps



Series: Hawkeye and the Furball [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paperwork is fun, and Clint needs some sky. Lucky just wants scritches. Life on a helicarrier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deadstick

********

It was only lunch, and I felt like I’d been run over by a horse when all I’d done was sit in a chair and answer a few questions. Phil was in his natural element, fingers flying over his keyboard, eyes darting from screen to screen. He looked happy, and I was glad, but I sorta wanted to bang my head on his desk.

Every now and again, I’d see his lips move, and I wondered if he was talking to me. He might just be muttering, thinking that I’d hear him. Werewolves had incredible hearing, better even than dogs or real wolves, but I didn’t. I really didn’t, and I missed Betsy so much my stomach actually hurt.

Phil’s head came up. “Lucky says you’re upset.” His eyes were sharp, assessing.

I got to my feet and stretched, arms up over my head. “Thinking of Betsy. Tell Lucky to chill.” I sent good thoughts down what I knew was my link to Lucky, even if it sounded crazy in my head. “I’m going to take a break.”

“Bathroom’s down and to the left.” Phil nodded, but his attention went to his computers. “When you get back, we need to discuss your medical exam.”

That put a little pep in my step, and I didn’t look back, but I wasn’t going to the restroom. I was determined to find some sky to look at and maybe take a breath of fresh air. My pocket was heavy with my new cellphone, pre-loaded with numbers that Phil thought I’d need. I even had a shiny new tablet sitting back on Phil’s desk. Hopefully, he’d teach me how to use it.

My new boots dragged at my feet, and I hated them. I could see where they’d be useful, but they were heavy and far from comfortable. I hadn’t been joking about the blisters. Recognizing a number on a door, I moved faster, knowing I was on the right track. What seemed like a million levels later, I cautiously pushed open a door and was greeted by actual sunlight and air that smelled like ocean.

It was dazzling, but I didn’t go crazy. I found spots to hide and stayed out of the way of planes and people hurrying. Spotting a ladder, I scurried up it and found a place to sit in the shade where I wouldn’t be squashed. There were a few clouds in the sky, and I ached for it. My arm wasn’t ready, but my heart wanted to fly. I watched the ocean, no land in sight. It seemed a little stupid to put a bunch of werewolves who couldn’t swim on a boat, but what did I know.

A plane took off in a roar, and I wondered who I’d have to convince to pilot one of those quinjets. They probably had rules against grade school dropouts, but I knew I could do it. My phone vibrated against my thigh, and I pulled it out to stare down at it.

_Come inside. Please._

I wasn’t ready. I lifted my face to the sun and tried to soak it in, feeling a little like a prisoner on a day pass. In my adult brain, I knew I was being stupid, and that once I got to working every day, I’d be too busy to feel this way.

Man, what I’d give for a horse to feed. Disgusted with myself, I slid down the ladder, face first, curled into a roll, up to a one-hand cartwheel, and ran for the door because I could. Once inside, I slowed down, but I paid attention to direction and door numbers, starting to understand how the boat was laid out. I made sure to pee before I hit Phil’s office, and I slid into the chair like nothing had happened.

“Nice day?” Phil had an eyebrow up.

“Perfect.” I nodded. “When is my physical therapy?”

Phil pointed at my tablet. “Check and see.”

With a huff, I opened the case, swiped, and stared at the icons. It was sorta like a cell phone, only bigger. I saw one that had a calendar date and tapped it, satisfied when it displayed the month and my appointments.

“I’m with you every morning?”

“Until we get all your paperwork done, yes.” Phil nodded. “I called Jim--.”

“How is he? How’s Bug? Is he still dating Betty, who used to be my horse, and wasn’t that a weird twist.” I slid to the edge of my seat.

Phil blinked at me. “He’s good. No mention of the livestock, but he did say that Betty’s living with him now.”

“What?” I stared in shock. “It’s been three days!” I wasn’t sure about that, might’ve been two, or four. I’d slept.

“Her roommate arrangement in Yakima fell through, so Jim offered her a place to stay until she gets a place of her own.”

“They’ll be married in a week. I had no idea Betsy liked Jim so much, but she did let him ride her, and trust me, that was a first.”

“Okay, stop.” Phil put up his hand, face screwed up like he’d eaten a lemon. “Please.”

Unable to help myself, I laughed. “It is weird.”

“You realize we could be mistaken. She might just be a nice lady from Kansas, who relocated to Washington.”

I stared at him. He sighed. “Right. Anyway. He promised to call when your social security card shows up. I think I can convince Director Fury to lend us a quinjet for the day to get it.”

I grinned. That sounded great. Phil was trying to do something nice for me, and that didn’t happen very often in my life. “Can I pilot the jet?”

“No.” Phil rolled his eyes. “But you can watch and learn. Now, about your medical file? ”

“Lunch time!” I jumped to my feet. “I gotta eat if I’m going to physical therapy.” I beat it out the door, going in the general direction of the cafeteria. I tugged on the bond, and sure enough, Phil fell into step at my shoulder before I hit the first doorway.

“You can’t avoid it forever.”

“Watch me.” I didn’t look at him.

Phil sighed, loud enough that I could hear him but said nothing. I knew that Phil was going to get his way, but I was going to avoid it as long as possible. This time, we went through the line together, and the food looked good. Phil had twice as much as me, but I planned to steal some of his French fries. Instead of getting a table at the back, we ended up at a table with several other agents. The cafeteria bulged with people, and I hoped none of them wanted to bite me like yesterday.

Someone jostled my arm, and I winced but said nothing just tucking it closer. One second later, Phil was up and standing behind me, and he flashed his teeth right as I looked over my shoulder up at him.

“Agent Woo, be more careful, or I might rip your arms off,” Phil said, a growl in his voice.

The guy, Woo, set his tray down. “Coulson, you know how it is. Pack law means your mate is at your status level. And that’s the lowest. He’s going to take a few knocks. And some of us are angry you went out and found a human when plenty of us would’ve taken you.”

The noise level in the cafeteria dropped like a rock. I saw a few people nod and a few more got up and headed for the exit. Phil curled his lip. “I thought recent events would’ve taught you better about my status in this pack.”

With a wiggle, I was out of my chair and right at Phil’s side. “Listen, asshole, back down. You do not fight with the omega. Do you know how many packs would kill to have Phil? All of them! He’s not ranked below you, or anyone else in this pack for that matter!”

Woo’s eyes widened, turning gold, and I saw his hand turn into a fist. “His wolf won’t hunt or fight for dominance. He’s no good to the pack.”

I grimaced and put my hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Be gentle with him, please. I hate blood at lunch time.”

Phil ducked his head and kissed me. “Thanks.”

“Kill a few of them and maybe they’ll get the message.” I sat back down and decided to give Bran a call. All the wolves in this pack were goddamn stupid and needed someone to educate them before I killed them for picking on Phil and Lucky.

Woo drew himself up, and Phil smiled. I could feel Lucky doing… something.

“What the hell?” Woo flinched, full body.

With one blow, Phil knocked him out, kind enough to make sure Woo didn’t land on the table and ruin the food. I brushed his tray off the table to land on top of his body. Phil sat down, put his napkin in his lap, and returned to eating.

“That was awesome.” I would find out what Lucky had been up to later. “Your pack is screwed up.”

“I know that now.” Phil shrugged. “I told you, if you recall.”

“I didn’t think they’d be this stupid.” I was wrong about a lot of stuff. “And I’ve met stupid wolves. There was this one, outside of Dubuque, and let me tell you, he could’ve pounded rocks with his head and been smarter at the end of it.”

Phil laughed. “I hope this story has a happy ending.”

“I’m Irish. Even the happy endings are sad.” I patted Phil’s knee, not wanting to talk about it any longer. “That’s true for the Wishram side as well. Everyone always gets turned into a beaver or something.”

“I’ve read some Native American legends and literature. Can you throw lightning?”

I could see that Phil was completely serious. “I asked Jim. He said no. Gramps throws a great lightning bolt. Fury actually flinched.”

“Have you tried?” Phil sounded almost hopeful. I laughed and shook my head. A movement to my left made me look, and Woo fought his way to his feet. He was beyond furious, and I knew my lunch was over. Woo’s jaw was stretching as he shifted, and he took a sharp, hard swing at my head. I heard Lucky’s roar, but I was moving, not thinking, and the steak knife in my hand went into his shoulder. For one moment he was stunned, and I dropped out of my chair, sweeping his legs from under him. He fell hard to his back, and I drew my silver knife from my boot.

Woo didn’t move as I straddled his chest, knife poised an inch from his golden eye. I said, calm as could be, “Yes?”

His hands came up, threatening, and I whispered, “Silver will kill you, right? Dead?” I moved the knife closer, smiling, and his hands went back to the floor.

“Hawkeye, stand down,” Phil snapped.

Somewhere inside me I felt Lucky whine, but I didn’t make the mistake of taking my eyes off the enemy. “Not a problem.” I got to my feet smooth and easy, keeping the knife where he could see it.

“Agent Woo, please report to medical to have that steak knife removed,” Phil said, moving right into Woo’s face, eyes hard.

For the first time, Woo ducked his eyes away, signaling that he’d lost the battle. “Yes, sir.”

I put my knife back in my boot. There were bits of Woo’s lunch on my knees, and my appetite had fled. I met Phil’s eyes. “Okay?”

Phil took his chance to inspect my arm and fuss about hurting it. I shook my head and let him, but I took a look around the cafeteria for any more threats. No one met my gaze directly, and Phil’s hand brought me back to him.

“You look like you want to shift,” Phil said.

“No. I’m good.” I did want to peck some eyes out, but it could wait. “How many will we have to fight?”

“Too many.” Phil escorted me out, and we went to physical therapy together.

********

Phil would watch the video again later. He’d seen hundreds of fights over the years, but he was jaw-dropping impressed with how Clint just… flowed. One blink to assess, and then he’d attacked with no hesitation, knowing exactly how to keep a werewolf down.

The reality that Clint had killed werewolves by himself, with no help, came crashing home. Phil hadn’t noticed the knife in Clint’s boot until it was in his hand. Lucky was practically vibrating in Phil’s head, needing desperately to check his mate, and Phil found a chair after delivering Clint to his physical therapist.

Breathing deep, in and out, Phil calmed them both down, promising Lucky time with Clint this evening. Lucky didn’t like it, but he allowed it, and Phil reconciled to the fact that Lucky was never going to stay quiet again. Phil rubbed his forehead and caught Clint staring at him. They exchanged a smile, and Phil had to tamp down on the jealousy he felt for his own wolf. He wasn’t quick enough, and Lucky roared his dissatisfaction.

Clint flinched, and Phil surged to his feet, going to him and ignoring whatever the physical therapist said. Phil reached, not sure, but Clint met him, and they clasped hands. Lucky settled, and Phil took another deep breath.

“I’m okay,” Clint said with all the optimism of youth and the blissful ignorance that if he’d been a second slower, Woo would’ve hurt him. Phil focused on the feel and warmth of Clint’s hand, and it soothed Lucky. Clint kissed Phil on the temple. “This is going to be awhile. Why don’t you go do paperwork? You know you love that.”

With a weak laugh, Phil nodded. He loved Clint, too, but now was not the time. Phil left after giving him a squeeze, not looking back, and he nearly plowed right into Fury in the first hallway.

“Cheese, you and your bird are giving me a headache.”

They fell into step, heading towards Phil’s office. “Agent Woo attacked him.”

“And he handled it.” Fury didn’t sound upset about it. “This time.”

“The problem, as he sees it, is that Lucky and I don’t get the respect we deserve. Woo deliberately bumped into Clint’s hurt arm in a show of dominance because I’m a low wolf.”

“I watched the video.” Fury grimaced. “And whose damn fault is it that everyone thinks you’re a low wolf?”

“Mine.” Phil wouldn’t lie or wiggle around the responsibility for it. “It was easier that way, and Lucky didn’t care.”

“He does now.”

Lucky snarled his agreement, and Phil didn’t say another word until they were behind the door of his office. “The Marrok’s omega explained to me that only an insane wolf will attack an omega.”

“Woo attacked Hawkeye, not you. No one has ever attacked you.” Fury didn’t sit down, watching Phil move to his desk. “What makes you so different from a submissive wolf?”

Phil almost wished the Marrok were here to explain it. “We have no submissives working for us. Most of these wolves have never even seen a submissive. All the wolves in your pack will obey you, right?”

“They damn well better,” Fury growled.

“Go ahead, give me an order. Make it something simple. Put the force of the pack behind it.” Phil needed coffee, but it could wait.

“Coulson! Right here! Now!” Fury pointed at the floor in front of him.

Phil would admit Fury was a strong alpha, but the command held no compulsion for him. In the past, he’d obeyed because he was polite. Those days were most likely behind him. The power of the pack, the need to obey, just didn’t latch on, and Lucky growled.

Fury tilted his head. “Nothing?”

“I felt the magic, but no, nothing.” Phil stared hard at him, made a gesture because Lucky wanted him to, and Fury’s wolf went to sleep.

“Damn it, Cheese.” Fury put his hands on his hips.

“I can settle a lot of arguments between dominants.” Phil would try harder. “We have to educate our pack, maybe find some submissives, try to be less--.”

“Assholes?” Fury sighed but nodded. “I agree. When are you bringing your mate into the pack?”

Shaking his head, Phil hoped he could keep a lid on Lucky until this evening. “I’m not. The Marrok made it clear that Clint was in _his_ pack. If Clint wants to join, I’ll re-visit it, but I’m sure he doesn’t, especially after lunch today.”

Fury growled, anger on his face. “Hawkeye needs to be ours.”

“Sex hasn’t worked, and I’m not asking him to eat my flesh,” Phil said, using blunt language so there was no misunderstanding. “He’s bonded to Lucky. That’s the most you get for now.”

“And you? Do you have all you want? For now?”

Phil decided that he better not answer. He bared his teeth instead. Fury smirked and left without slamming the door. No one knew Phil better than Fury. So, there was no doubt that Fury knew how much Phil wanted Clint. More than anything was how much, but if there was one thing Phil had learned over the years, he rarely got what he wanted.

The only way to placate Lucky was to call up the security cameras in physical therapy, and that played on one computer while Phil went over Clint’s medical record, again. Clint needed every vaccination known to man, which he wasn’t going to like at all, but it was non-negotiable. Too many kids didn’t get vaccinated, and an adult case of the chicken pox could be extremely dangerous. And that was only one example. Phil liked Dr. Simmons, and he hoped Clint trusted her, or this was all going to be so much more difficult.

It was obvious that Clint didn’t want to discuss his hearing loss, ever, and Phil was willing to put it off until last, but eventually they’d have to make some decisions. It’d be more dangerous than usual in the field with his level of hearing loss, and neither Lucky or Phil were keen on that happening.

There was also the psych evaluation to consider. Dr. Simmons had found old healed fractures all over Clint’s body, leading her to believe child abuse had been a factor at some point. All agents were cleared by trained psychiatrists before their first assignment, further complicating Clint’s life.

They had to talk. Maybe he could sedate Clint. Lucky growled, nixing that idea, but it was possible to come up with a few beers. Get relaxed and the whole talking thing might work out better for them.

Frustrated, Coulson found the security video from the cafeteria and watched the fight again, still amazed at Clint’s speed and tactics. He’d received some sort of training, and Phil idly flipped through Clint’s file, wondering who’d done the research. There were holes, big ones, years of Clint’s life unaccounted for, and questions that Phil wanted answers for, like why Clint had left school after fourth grade.

Rubbing his forehead, Phil hoped Clint wasn’t functionally illiterate. Another touchy subject to be dealt with, and Phil wished Lucky could take over. It’d be easier. Lucky wanted to go check on him, right now, but Phil put him off, starting a search for one Clint Barton in every database on the planet. He also used the name Hawkeye, setting the programs to work. Barney Barton was next, and Clint’s parents.

It was easier than asking Clint.

Lucky was through being polite about the fact he wanted his mate, and Phil started moving towards physical therapy. He strode by Agent Holiday, registering the smell of worry, but he didn’t want to slow down. Lucky sent him back.

“Agent Holiday, everything okay?” Phil asked from behind him.

Holiday jumped, ducking his head and tucking his body. He was a low wolf, not as big and strong as some of the others, but he was a good agent. “Yes! I, um, well, yes!”

Phil eased closer and put his hand on Holiday’s shoulder, calming the jumpy wolf. “Our pack is going through some changes. It’s okay to be nervous.”

“Some of the more dominant wolves are--.” He stopped to swallow hard. “Really being jerks.”

“I’m sorry. They’re unsure of their place.” Phil kept his tone even, not growly. “You can always come to me if there is a problem. I’ll speak with them.”

A quick nod, Holiday bit his lower lip. “Is it true what they’re saying? That you’re really very dominant. That you hid it?”

Shocked, Phil took a second. “I’m omega. I’m not dominant or submissive.” He realized then that he had a larger problem. The wolves in their pack didn’t even know or understand what an omega wolf was. “It’ll get better. Things will become clearer.”

“Maybe send out an email or something.” Holiday never met Phil’s eyes. “Congratulations on your mate. He looks like a good one.”

“Thank you. He is.” Phil wasn’t going to try to explain. He let the other wolf get back to work and continued on his way, mulling it all over. It was clear he needed to call the Marrok, damn it. The wolves of SHIELD needed to find their place in the larger world. Deep in thought, he nearly bowled Clint over, coming around a corner. “Sorry! Sorry!”

Clint had hold of Phil’s arm and steadied himself, eyes wild. “That man is evil. You left me with an evil man.”

Phil rolled his eyes, liking the dense smell of Clint’s sweat and wanting to lick a stripe up Clint’s neck. “It was for your own good.”

“Those things always suck.” Clint leaned against him, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and making it harder to resist him. “Can I be done for the day? Because I’m done.”

Smiling, Phil steered him towards their quarters, ignoring the whining, but making sure no one came close enough to bump him. Clint took a quick shower, and Phil helped him to the bed. Drama aside, Phil could smell the exhaustion on him. “Sleep.”

Eyes already closed, Clint fisted his hand in Phil’s shirt. “Stay close?”

“I promise.” Phil heard the years of living with the very reasonable fear Clint had about his hearing loss. “No one will bother you.” He listened to Clint’s breath even out as he fell asleep. Lucky thought a nap was a great idea, but Phil had a few things he wanted to get done. He went to straighten the mess Clint had made with his clothes and made a list in his head.

********

I sat bolt upright in bed. “Do I smell pancakes?”

Phil laughed. I’d forgotten I was entirely naked, but I didn’t care, hurrying my ass to the little table. He shook his head. “You’ll get syrup on your…”

“You can lick it off.” I got busy pouring syrup, but I also noticed our apartment had changed again. “Did you move your office in here?”

“I opened a branch office.” Phil poured us both some coffee. He had peanut butter on his pancakes, which was just odd. There was bacon on the side, and I snatched a few pieces before the carnivore at the table ate them all. “We can watch movies on the computer.”

He sounded a little worried. I grinned at him. “Good idea.” Glancing out the port hole I saw that the day was over. “We need more pillows for a movie. And popcorn.”

Phil nodded. “Got popcorn.” He picked up his phone and tapped out a text. “Pillows on the way.” He might’ve given me a tiny glare. “Did you swipe your finger through my peanut butter?”

“That would be gross.” I licked my finger again, enjoying the taste and teasing him. “Did you just growl?”

“A little.” Phil tugged his plate closer. “Werewolf law insists that I eat you now you have stolen my food.”

“Like you know any werewolf laws.” I laughed, shoving my mouth full and chewing. They weren’t as fluffy as Jim’s, but they were good. I chased them with coffee, happy in this moment. “I wonder if thunderbirds have laws. I bet I break them all.”

“You sound so happy about that.” Phil laughed. “Since you’re the only one, you can write your own book.”

I might do that. Plowing through my pancakes, I eyed Phil’s stack until he presented a fork to me. I let him feed me, groaning at the combination of flavors. He smirked, and I got hard looking at him. Phil never looked away. “I can smell your arousal.”

Bran had explained to me that werewolves smell everything, even lies, and it hadn’t bothered me until now. I drank some coffee. “Do I really smell bad to you?”

Phil blinked, putting down his fork. “No. Anyway, I smell that way too, now.”

Shocked, I could only stare at him.

“We take on the scent of our mate,” Phil said in a gentle voice. “That way every wolf knows, and there aren’t any excuses for touching someone else’s mate.”

“Wow.” Bran hadn’t told me that. I thought about it while I drained my coffee cup. “Do I smell like you?”

“A little.” Phil shrugged.

“Not that much?” For some reason, it bugged me.

“We’re not bonded.” Phil wouldn’t look up from his plate. “So, it’s faint.”

For some reason, I felt guilty. I got up from the table and went to find clothes. It wasn’t my fault we weren’t bonded. I liked Phil, a lot, more than I’d ever liked anyone. I understood what he meant though. I had a connection to Lucky. I could feel him, stirring around, worrying. I sent affection that way, hoping to settle him down.

Deciding against the stupid boots, I had my knife in my hand when I padded barefoot to the little table where Phil was shoving pancakes bites in a circle. He looked up as I went to him. “Going to knife me?”

“If we cut each other, smear some blood, will we bond?” I wanted to know, and I wished I could smell lies.

“Usually sex is enough, but we’ve been doing that, and it hasn’t worked.” Phil reached, and I handed him the knife. He gave it look, flipping it once. “This isn’t silver.”

“Of course not. Silver makes a terrible knife.” I took it from him and casually threw it the length of our apartment to lodge in the door. “It’s a perfectly balanced steel throwing knife with a thin layer of pure silver electroplated to it. It’s my baby.”

Phil pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Did the Marrok explain how pack members bond?”

“By eating a chunk of the alpha, yes.” I shuddered at the idea.

“The Marrok considers you a member of his pack. Director Fury is jealous.” Phil went to the knife and tugged it free, bringing it back to me. “You’re going to destroy the door, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” I put the knife on the table and hugged him. “Lucky and I bonded over that deer, didn’t we?” I remembered the tingle of the blood.

“Yes.” Phil kissed me, just a peck. “It shouldn’t have been enough.”

“Lucky is special.” I turned him loose to grab the last piece of bacon. “You cooked. I’ll clean. All this talking made my head hurt.”

Phil rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. I could tell he wanted to discuss all of this until the morning, but I wanted to think about it before we went back at it. I wasn’t against bonding with Phil. I liked him. He was a good man. Maybe it wasn’t enough. Maybe thunderbirds didn’t bond to humans. What the hell did I know about thunderbirds, not damn much.

While I cleaned, Phil wandered to his desk and his computer, and I could hear clicking faintly. There was a knock on the door, and I smiled at the assortment of pillows delivered. Phil tossed them all on the bed. “For your nest.”

“Someday, I want an elevated bed, like a loft, with big windows,” I said, not sure where the words were coming from but suspecting my bird brain. “And bubble wrap all over the floor.”

Phil burst out laughing. “Why?”

“So I can hear if furballs are trying to sneak up on me, of course.” I grinned at him.

“Crazy bird.” Phil went back to his computer. There were no leftovers, so cleanup wasn’t hard, and when I was done, I padded over to Phil to see what he was doing. My keen eyes had no trouble seeing that he was working on my file. He looked up, no guilt on his face. “Should I add knife throwing to your list of skills?”

“Let it be a surprise.” I discovered that I didn’t much care if Phil knew everything about me. “Can anyone read all this stuff?”

“No. Just me, Director Fury, and Dr. Simmons.” Phil scrolled down as I leaned against him. “What was the name of your last school?”

The question took me off guard. I tried to remember but fourth grade hadn’t been a good year for me. “It was a tree.” I was sure of that. “I hadn’t joined the circus, yet, so I still lived in Waverly, Iowa.”

With a few strokes, Phil pointed at a picture that came up. “West Cedar Grade School.”

“Wow. The internet really does know everything.” I didn’t remember my teacher, except that it was a woman. “Barney and I were in foster care that year.”

Phil put all that in the file. “I need to ask you a difficult question.”

“Sure.” I wasn’t too worried.

“Did your father beat you?” Phil looked pained as he asked the question.

“Yes.” I kept my answer short. “But some of the bones I broke were just me, trying to fly by jumping off the barn or something else stupid.” I was afraid that I sounded upset, when really, I wasn’t anymore, not much.

“You nailed that flying thing.” Phil kept on typing. “Took you a while, but you got it.”

“I did.” And for some reason, a big part of my life suddenly made sense. I’d always been thunderbird, trying to fly. Maybe my father had sensed it, known I wasn’t… human. He’d been trying to beat something out of me, I knew that. “Why wasn’t Barney a thunderbird?” I asked in a quiet voice. It bothered me.

Touching my hand, Phil made me look at him. “I’m sorry.”

I ducked my head, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Thanks. I guess he was like my dad, and I was more like my mom.”

“Genetics. You got it. He didn’t.” Phil patted my hand. “Pull up a chair. There are a few things we need to go over.”

“I’d rather go back to PT.” I meant that, but I got one of the chairs and sat down next to him. “I’m not sure you should put this stuff on the computer. What if you get hacked?”

“You don’t know anything about computer technology, do you?” Phil wasn’t poking fun. He was seriously asking.

“Not a damn thing.” I sighed and quit arguing. “I remember the foster family. Last name was Rogers. I’m not sure why you would care.”

“Connections are important. Rogers, huh?” Phil had a gleam in his eye. “Were they nice?”

“Not so much.” I shrugged. “They fed us. Usually.” I remembered a few hungry nights. “It was a hard winter, lots of snow. We were cold, tired, beat down. When the circus came to town in spring, Barney had a crazy idea, and we were gone the next day. I don’t think he ever regretted it.”

“Did you?”

“He didn’t get the crap kicked out of him on a regular basis,” I growled. “The horses saved my life. Betsy was the best thing to ever happen to me. Without her, I’d probably be some sort of mindless assassin.”

The look on Phil’s face was frankly a little frightening, and I could sense Lucky growling. Phil swallowed hard. “Who trained you?” he managed to ask.

“Trickshot – that was his circus name. I never knew his real one.” I shivered, scrubbing at my arms. “He was the best, maybe even better than me. By the time I hit nineteen, I figured out that he was a thief and assassin, using the circus to hide and grooming me to double the amount of jobs.”

Phil’s next question was breathless. “And what did you do?”

This part of the story I hadn’t told a soul. “Barney was in on it. Of course.” I rolled my eyes at my brother’s stupidity. “I went with Trickshot to kill a man. It was supposed to be my first job. A test to see if I could do it, but he never should’ve let me get behind him.” I wasn’t going into the gory details. “He’s in prison. Barney beat the shit out of me for ruining a good thing, but I didn’t care. Betsy got a hoof on him to put a stop to it. After that, it was werewolves, always werewolves with him.”

“And you became the headliner.” Phil pulled me and kissed me, no passion, just concern. “What did Barney do for the circus?”

“Whatever needed done. He was bigger than me, not suited for the acrobatics, but he could handle horses, pitch a tent, do the books, just about anything. Carson called Barney his right hand man.” I hadn’t cared, as long as Barney wasn’t hitting me. He was my brother, and I’d loved him, but I knew him. “Irish story, really.”

“Even the happy ones end sad.” Phil nodded. “I bet finding out you have relatives in Washington was a shock.”

“You have no idea.” I leaned into him. “They all seem nice. None of them even tried to hit me.” I regretted saying it when I felt him growl, but he didn’t understand that I could only judge family by how dangerous they were to me. Jim had understood. He’d always been careful. I missed him. “Tell me about your family.”

“That is a long story best told over a beer or two.” Phil nuzzled me. “Tomorrow, you start a round of vaccinations. Dr. Simmons is expecting you. I’m sure she’ll check your arm.”

I glared at him. “No.”

“Oh, yes.” Phil smiled. “Your reward will be a sore arm and the comfort that you won’t die from tetanus. After you see the doctor, we’ll head to the gym and find out how many one-armed cartwheels you can do before you get dizzy.”

He was teasing me, but I might do them anyway. “That’s it? That’s all she wants?”

Phil gave me a steady look. “Eventually, we’ll discuss your hearing loss. I have a feeling we need to work up to it.”

“How about we don’t.” I eased to my feet and put my chair back at the table. “I have exercises I’m supposed to do before bed.”

He turned to his computer and the file, and I went to arrange all the pillows the way I wanted them. My ears were off limits. I wasn’t getting hearing aids, and I wasn’t going to discuss it. Phil wasn’t getting his way when it came to my ears.

“I’m going to shift. Lucky is sick of me upsetting you.”

That made me think. “He bitches at you about me?”

“Just about constantly.” Phil went towards the closet. I wasn’t the smartest guy in the room, but even I could figure that’d get old fast. Forget bonding. Phil was going to end up hating me. I scrubbed my hand through my hair and flopped back.

While I considered apologizing or running away, I did the circular arm motions, not straining, not trying too hard, just a gentle motion like the guy had said. I couldn’t hear Phil, but that didn’t mean anything. Finishing that one, I got to my feet and did some reaches, nice and slow. I had to get my wing back. Once I got back in the sky, I was sure I’d bump into Gramps.

Lucky ran between my legs, lifted me up, and dived on the bed with me riding him. It was impossible not to laugh. I started scratching his ears and worked my way down, smiling at all the wiggling. He tried to lick my face, but I kept ducking. We ended up in a pile, my front pressed into his back with my arm thrown over him. He rolled and put his paws in the air. I scratched his tummy and grinned.

“You are so furry.”

He scored a lick from chin to forehead. I yelped, ducking my face into his fur and laughing. “We should go do something. It’s early, not even nine.”

Bounding into the air, Lucky howled, loud and long. Even my crappy ears protested. He put a paw on my chest, throwing his head back, and I tackled him before he could howl again. No contest, I ended up getting pinned and licked half to death. I crawled to freedom, getting to my feet and peeling my shirt off. Lucky spun around, eyes wild with excitement.

“Can you handle doorknobs?” I asked.

Lucky raced to the door and used his paw to push it down. It was then it hit me that all the doors on this boat were wolf-friendly. It made sense, but it also meant I could use them with a bit of practice in my bird form. I shoved my pants off, sat in a chair, and shifted. Lucky trotted over, and I jumped to land on his shoulders.

Through the bond I felt his satisfaction, even as I tried not to gouge him. I found a spot, and he took off. I spread my wings enough to keep my balance, impressed that Lucky stopped to shut the door. I trusted him to take us some place fun, and that was a mistake on my part.

Everyone stared at us, and I was sure my head was spinning like a top. So many computers, technology, and Fury standing there like the captain of his ship right between four monitors. He turned, Lucky wagged his tail frantically, and I figured we were in for a beating.

“Good evening, Coulson, Hawkeye.” Fury lifted his arm, and I knew the gesture. He wanted me to fly to his arm. I had refused to shake his hand at the circus, and I’d been rude once or twice, but the truth was that he was my boss. The alpha of this pack that included Phil, and I’d agreed to take orders from him. It was annoying but true. I’d receive a large amount of money to do it, too.

Fury hadn’t earned my loyalty, not yet, but I was willing to give him a chance. Anyway, he’d look like a badass with me resting on his arm. I jumped, Lucky woofed, and I landed precariously, spreading my wings to near full extension and just managing not to clip him. He stood still, and I found my balance, pulling my wings tight.

“Going to give my pack a try?”

I looked him in the eye and clicked my beak together several times.

“I’ll take that as yes.” Fury kept me on his arm and strolled the length of the bridge, telling me about various stations. Lucky bounced along with us, and I liked this boat a lot more now that I’d seen this. Fury took me back to a large table set above all the work stations, and I hopped off to roost on the back of a chair. Lucky put his paws on either side of me, and I dipped my head, getting my feathers licked for my trouble. I grabbed his ear with my beak and tugged. He yelped, and Fury chuckled. “You two are crazy. Now, get off my bridge.”

Lucky dropped to four legs. I dropped to land on his shoulders, and we padded away. I was glad when we ended up in the gym, and I took the opportunity to do some gliding, with minimal flapping, using Lucky to help me get up high enough. People stared. We ignored them. It didn’t take long before I was worn out, and it was discouraging. I was out of flying shape.

Concentrating, I tried to send one word down the link. _Home._

After a second, Lucky threw back his head and howled. I had no idea what that meant, but he got moving in the right direction. Before the door to our little apartment shut, I shifted, ending up with a wolf in my lap. His big paws waved in my face, and I indulged him with rubs before getting up to stagger to the bed. I knew we were supposed to watch a movie, but I needed some sleep.

Cuddling around Lucky’s warm body, I drifted off.

********

Phil nudged at Lucky, and they went to the bathroom to shift and then a quick shower. It was dark in their little apartment, but his wolf eyes were good enough to get him to the bathroom light. A tiny part of Phil was embarrassed about his behavior on the bridge last night, but he squashed it before Lucky got upset. Lucky was practically purring, happy in his bond, and that was another subject Phil wasn’t going to dwell on for even a second.

It wasn’t Lucky’s fault. Or Clint’s, and Phil, even with his centuries, needed to grow up. No one ever promised him a mate. He toweled off, deciding not to shave, and wrapped the towel around his waist to go to the closet. Stopping in his tracks, he stared at Clint’s sleep blurry face. Clint took him by the hand.

“Lucky says you need a hug.”

Pulling away and causing a scene wasn’t Phil’s style, but he was irrationally angry, and he didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. He was goddamn fine. “Don’t!” He put up his hand, knowing that he didn’t look very stern with a towel puddled around his feet. Clint frowned, and Lucky roared inside Phil. Phil turned, and Clint slid in front of him.

“Stop.” Clint ducked his head, giving him the side-eye. “I know this is hard for you.”

“You don’t know,” Phil snarled.

“Maybe not exactly, but I have an idea.” Clint didn’t back away. “I was always the one left behind. The one left out. The one no one wanted around. I don’t even know why. I was too… something. I never figured out what. So, I get it.”

Guilt at his stupidity made Phil flinch. “I don’t deserve to complain.”

“Okay, now shut up.” Clint rolled his eyes. “Of course you get to bitch about this, but we don’t know exactly what is going on. Maybe thunderbirds can’t bond with humans. Maybe humans can only hold one bond, or maybe my thunderbird is bonded to you, and we just don’t know it yet.”

Phil dropped his eyes, thinking that Clint had spent time coming up with all that. It made him feel better. “What did the Marrok say?” Phil just knew the alpha had said something.

“He only said that I’d have to choose your pack. That I was his.” Clint shrugged. He leaned over, snatched up the towel, and went to hang it on a rack. With a glance over his shoulder, he flipped off the light and returned to the bed, arranging the covers and pillows in near darkness. “For some reason, his wolf liked me.”

The unspoken wonder that someone could like Clint without an ulterior motive made Phil whine softly. Lucky nudged and prodded, and Phil went to him. “Someday, you could choose us?”

Clint’s eyes went wide. He didn’t answer until Phil had taken the spot left for him, and they were cuddled together. “Your pack doesn’t like me.”

Phil didn’t have an answer for that. He hoped it wasn’t true, but he knew it felt that way to Clint. They touched and kissed, and Phil hated this a little because he ached from the lack of a true bond. Lucky crooned a low howl, and Phil echoed him. Clint laughed, nipping at Phil’s neck, and Phil found a few gruff words. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.”

*********

end


End file.
